Spring Cleaning
by CaptainMalcolmReynolds
Summary: Animals are messy creatures, and often require specialized care. So who, exactly, gets to clean up a room occupied by a swarm of white butterflies, that are sometimes used for evil purposes?


**So… channeling my inner Max here, I know that this story is scientifically inaccurate. I've done my research, butterflies don't actually poop, nor are they insects. However, I wondered who came in to care for the butterflies, and more importantly, who cleaned up after them. I was informed that Nathalie took care of it… so that's where this story came from. It's not my fault I wrote about butterfly poop. Blame Epcot97… I do.**

**Oh yeah... I don't own these characters. Not even a single butterfly.**

He felt the pull of anger, the swelling frustration of an unjust slight, and he smiled his cold smile, no trace of true joy on his face. Silently, Gabriel Agreste pushed back his chair and walked to the picture of his wife, pushing the buttons that opened the secret passage to his lair. As his platform came to rest, and the trapdoor closed, he pulled off his tie, touching the butterfly pin at his throat, and demanded, "Nooroo! Dark wings, rise."

As the purple flash of light faded, Hawkmoth leaned his weight in front of him onto his cane, which suddenly skidded out from under him, sending him reeling forward, and his pure white butterflies fluttering for cover.

Turning his gimlet eye to the walls of the observatory, the cloud of flapping white bodies, and, finally, the floor on which he stood, he realized that he needed to do something about the film that coated every horizontal surface he could see... butterfly poop. Newest victim forgotten, Hawkmoth dropped his transformation, and Gabriel strode forward, slipping and sliding his way back to the panel in the floor that would take him back to his office.

Collapsing into his desk chair, Gabriel paged his assistant, Nathalie, asking her to come into his office at once. Once she had closed the door behind her, he barked out his order. "Nathalie. You must do something about the…" he broke off, gesturing at the portrait. "It is a mess. This is why I've never allowed animals in the house. Nobody is willing to take responsibility for their upkeep." He sighed and waved his hand vaguely in the air. "Take care of it. And, Nathalie? Nobody can know that the chamber exists." Decree uttered, he turned back to his work, dismissing his assistant with his lack of attention.

Nathalie headed back to her desk and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She'd been in the lair before, as herself, the akuma Catalyst, and the wielder of the peacock miraculous, Mayura. It was, in a word, disgusting. Hawkmoth had been keeping his butterflies up there for at least a year, and she wasn't sure if it had ever seen any kind of cleaning product. The smell alone was enough to turn her stomach, but Gabriel did have a noble purpose, to restore his wife to health, and unite his family, once again. That didn't mean, however, that she wanted to be the one cleaning up his messes. No matter what her job description was, she was fairly certain it did not include cleaning up insect excrement, but naturally, this job would fall to her. It wasn't like she could advertise for someone to come clean butterfly poop out of a secret lair at the Agreste Estate. That would be tantamount to putting up a sign that stated Hawkmoth Lives Here.

No, Nathalie had 2 choices: ignore her Gabriel's wishes and hope he forgot, or to clean it herself. Sighing, she knew that there wasn't truly a choice, she'd have to be the one to clean it. She gently thunked her head against her desk.

One of her many daily alarms went off, and she checked her ever-present tablet to see where she was needed. Standing, and settling her face and posture into their normal, neutral expressions, she went to greet Adrien and apprise him of his schedule for the afternoon. Reminding him that, as usual, his father would not be joining him for the evening meal, she shrugged off the unpleasant task, and ordered cleaning supplies to be sent up to Gabriel's office. Tonight she was going to clean, and Gabriel was going to owe her, big time.

Later that day, armed with a bucket, mop, lots of bleach, a face mask, and a heart full of disgust and righteous indignation, Nathalie banned Gabriel from the observatory that served as his lair for the next 24 hours, and set off to start cleaning.

Several hours later, a thoroughly annoyed, partially bedraggled and somewhat vengeful Nathalie reappeared in Gabriel's office. Without even a glance in her direction, the office's occupant asked if the task was complete. Nathalie practically growled a response about being very close, just needing to scour a few of the more grotesque corners, but needed additional supplies and would take care of it later. Right now, Nathalie decided, she was going to take a very long, very hot shower, change her clothes (there were dark mutterings about her current clothes and an incinerator), and that she did NOT get paid enough for this. To top it off, she was going to shower in Gabriel's fancy-pants bathroom, because she deserved it. Half an hour, and more gallons of water that she cared to admit later, Nathalie stepped out of the shower into the steam-drenched room. Refreshed, she smiled to herself as she put on her clean, comfortable clothes.

Looking around the palatial bathroom for fancy lotion, or something else she could treat herself with, her eye fell upon a simple, innocuous object, sitting in a cup by the sink. Gears started to turn in her head, and a cold smile broke across her face. She knew just what she was going to do, and, Heaven help her, she was going to enjoy every second of it. Tucking Gabriel's toothbrush into her pocket, she strolled back through her employer's now empty office, touching the painting of his wife, and taking the secret conveyance to Hawkmoth's hidden world. Humming softly to herself, Nathalie polished one particularly stubborn corner of the now fresh smelling lair, using the misappropriated toothbrush.

Five minutes later, Nathalie was on her way back out of the office, her step lighter, and her smile more genuine. She replaced the borrowed toothbrush, left a note to the chef with a change in the breakfast menu, and headed out with a song in her heart.

The next morning, she arrived at work, entering the office just as Gabriel finished his spinach and feta omelet, while he went over the days first items of business. Nathalie informed her employer that she had completed the spring cleaning task that he had assigned her, and everything was ready for him to resume his extracurricular activities at his leisure. Gabriel looked up at her, his cold, white smile marred by a hint of green, and nodded at her meaning. Nathalie returned the nod without a flicker of emotion touching her face, removed her employer's discarded breakfast things from his desk, and turned to the door. Before she left the room, she glanced over the shoulder and said, "Mr. Agreste, I suggest that you brush your teeth before your meeting."


End file.
